Sammy Keyes and the Fight for the Big Apple
by Mrs Billy Pratt
Summary: This may be disturbing...Lana goes to New York City and Sammy and her friends meet Billy's idols...The Avengers! What now, fool?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is based off of a mental image I had recently…check it out on my blog. PS: I'm really sorry if this disturbs you in some way.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story…even Billy.

It was a hot day in the small, seriously jipped* town of Santa Martina. Me, Marissa, Holly, Dot, Casey, and Billy were sitting on the roof of the mall, pretending that we were giant aliens attacking the city.

"This is so dumb," groaned Marissa, "Sammy, we are going to get in _trouble. _Do you hear me? T-R-O-U-B-L-E!"

"Relax, Marissa," I said, sitting down next to her with a Double Dynamo in my hand, "Did we get in trouble when we had a screaming, poopy baby up here? No. And in case you hadn't noticed, none of us are poopy _or _screaming. We'll be fine."

"And he takes a chunk out of the middle school! School is out…FOREVER!" yelled Billy, "The famous chicken hat crashes down on Main Street! Innocent civilians run in terror as they gaze up at the monster that is-"

"BILLY!" shouts Casey, laughing, "Dude, that came straight out of the comic books!"

"GRR. I will DESTROY YOU!" replied Billy. He struck a pose of an overly-dramatic actress from black and white monster movies. "Who will save us from this terror? Who will end this madness?"

"The amazing Casey!" Billy made the noise of a cheesy super hero theme. They laughed.

"As fun as this was, I have to go baby-sit," sighed Dot, "Who knows what trouble Anneke and Beppie will get into?"

We talked and laughed, but eventually it was only Marissa and I sitting up there with really sticky faces.

"Grams wanted me to come home early," I frowned, "She sounded like she wanted to talk."

"Is it Lana?" Marissa looked alarmed.

"Probably not," Sammy replied, "She's living the good life in Hollywood, remember?" Even though I _said _this, pretty much all day I was wondering: What else could she do to ruin our lives?

Marissa rolled her eyes. "How could I ever forget?" she snorted, "Yolanda _still _talks about that. Like I could have talked you out of it."

We smiled. Our lives may have been changing around us, but for all these years we had been best friends. Nothing, no one could change _that. _Not even Lana.

We walked to the block before the Highrise and waved goodbye. I crept up the stairs and tiptoed into the apartment.

"Hi Grams." Instead of the usual hug and smile, Grams sighed and walked over to me as though she were walking on eggshells. "What's wrong, Grams?' I worried, frowning.

"Samantha, I have some bad news. It's—it's regarding…Lana." She spoke carefully, as though she were afraid she might break something.

I knew it. No matter where she was, she managed to totally ruin our lives. Why couldn't she be a normal mother? Why did she have to be famous?

"What? What did she do? Is it about Warren or something?"

"No…she's not in Hollywood anymore."

My heart skipped a beat and some little part of me that had never grown up leaped like a puppy that had finally been rescued from the pound. She was coming home! My mom was coming home! Before she could say anything, though, her Grams spoke.

"She was offered a part on a TV show in…in New York. She moved to New York. W-with…Warren," Grams said gravely, and I faltered disbelievingly.

She was never, _ever _coming home. Nothing, no one, could ever change that.

"No. She couldn't have!" I raged as quietly as I could, "How could she do this to us _again?_ This is getting crazy. I can't stand it anymore!" I collapsed on the couch, crying.

"Samantha. Sweetheart, we don't need this. Work past it, okay? Samantha?"

I looked up at her. Work past it…I can do that, I thought. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and nodded. "I think I'm going to bed now, okay?"

Grams watched for a moment, worried, but she eventually smiled sadly and went into her room.

Inside my head, I was already cooking up a plan.

A/N: Kinda suckish, but whatever. Leave a review and maybe it won't be so suckish after all!

*Jipped means jacked up.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter two of a really jacked up story: Sammy Keyes and the Case of Captain Billy! Or something. Please review, tell me good story ideas, and good titles! I need the help.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people in this story.

"Sammy," said Marissa very seriously, "you are still in the doghouse with my parents for Hollywood! Why on earth would you want to go to the east coast? We barely made it when we travelled and didn't leave the state, but this is a completely different story! All I'm saying is that this is a bad idea! You _always _get _me _in trouble with _your _ideas…!" She stopped when she saw where we were. "Oh no, Sammy, you are _not _bringing Captain Billy and the Amazing Casey! Do you _want _me to _die?_"

"Relax," I said, and grabbed her by the shoulders, "Marissa, you don't get it, do you? You should know this! I am _sick _of Lana controlling my life by not being in it! Don't you understand? She's ruining my life. Marissa, please."

Throughout this whole speech, Marissa's eyes were getting wider and wider, and by the time I had finished, they were so big that I could have played Frisbee* with 'em. She pointed behind me just when I thought her eyes were about to explode. I spun around, expecting to see Casey listening to the whole conversation. What I saw was _way _worse.

A woman with platinum blonde hair that was way up high on her head like she had recently been in a fight with a bear—and lost-stood in front of us. Her pajamas were pink with sparkly stars all over them, and she wore a ratty pink bathrobe that looked like it had been through a lot. Not even Cece would have sold it. This woman looked like she had been crying and screaming for a long time, and her clown makeup was smeared all over the place. In other words, she was gonna haunt my dreams.

"What do _you _want?" she sneered, making her look like a character from a horror film, "Gonna steal my _son_, too?"

Marissa squealed, "We were just leaving." But I looked her in the face as long as I could without running screaming from the place and said, "We want to talk to Casey."

Candi Acosta laughed and said, "He was just looking for you." Then her face twisted into an expression of barely contained rage and she started using language that was as colorful as her makeup.

We scurried away like rabbits, and when we stopped to catch our breath, we were at Maynard's.

"She knows," I said.

"Duh!" said Marissa, "Casey went to find you. Where would he be?"

Immediately I knew. "Graveyard," I said confidently.

Marissa groaned. "Not again," she moaned.

We walked to the graveyard, and along the way we talked about Captain Billy and the Amazing Casey-Man. When we got there, we had talked about superheroes for a long time.

"Sammy," said Casey as I said, "Casey."

We didn't exactly rush into each other's arms, but Marissa giggled all the same. "So romantic," she sighed, and Casey and I blushed. Billy walked up to Marissa and said, "My fair maiden," as he stooped to kiss her hand. I looked at her as though I were saying, Yeah. _I'm _the romantic one.

I told Casey what I knew, he told me what he knew, and Marissa and Billy had a shy-ologue, Part II. I rolled my eyes and then told Casey my plan.

"So you're just going to New York?"

"Yeah. We can't let them control us, Casey."

"True. But no plan?" He grinned mischievously.

"Nope. Marissa and I thought that you guys should come with us. I mean, it's your dad," I explained. Marissa almost died from the romance of it all.

He thought about it for about five seconds. "Yeah, okay. We're in."

I was shocked. I had expected persuasion, struggle, even some form of drugging him to get him to go. All of a sudden, though, Marissa acted like she had been with the plan all along.

"Great! I'll go pack!" And she grabbed my arm and shook me like a dog. "Let's _go,_" she hissed.

I got up to leave. "Don't let Heather know, okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "Meet us here in an hour, okay?"

I nodded and smiled back. "Sounds like a plan."

Two hours later, we were on a Greyhound, Marissa and I both experiencing total déjà vu.

Two hours after that, we were in Nevada.

In what seemed like days of Billy telling ridiculous stories and Casey singing ridiculous songs, we had reached it.

There we were, four small town teenagers in the Big City.

We were in New York.

A/N: Pretty good so far, right? Review it for me please!

*Don't own the Frisbee either.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I guess it doesn't suck too bad…so I shall continue!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this fic thing.**

As we travelled on the big bus, we saw lights, billboards, shops…and Marissa had a heart attack when we went through Times Square.

"Omigosh! It's the commercial for the new FreshFut nail polish line!" she gasped. Even Casey looked.

The bus pulled up to a station that was half as pretty as the one in Santa Martina. I can't even describe it. Billy turned a little bit green when he smelled it. The first thing we did was run as far as we could.

We stopped by a newsstand. "Marissa…," I gasped, my eyes widening, "Marissa, look at this newspaper."

She stopped gazing around with her mouth open and said, "Sammy, what's…oh. Oh—oh my gosh! Casey—come look!"

So there we were, in New York City, poring over a newspaper. That said that today…was four days after we had left Santa Martina.

"Grams!" I whispered in shock. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. This isn't happening!"

I knew that I would be on the Missing Persons list if it weren't for the note I had left on the kitchen counter. I knew that Grams would still be worried. The worst part was that I couldn't call. The last time I had gone on a little trip, I had broken Marissa's cell phone.

"Sammy," said Casey gently, "Do you want to use Billy's phone?"

I nodded and shook the tears out of my eyes.

I dialed Hudson's number first, because the chances were that Grams was yelling at Hudson for not stopping me, or looking for me, or calling the Marines and telling them to track me and kill anyone other than my friends who came within ten feet of me.

Voice mail.

I dialed the apartment number. It was ringing, ringing, ringing. Then, she finally picked up. "Grams!" I exclaimed. "I'm so sorry…I had to come tell Lana to stop messing with us!"

She started yelling at me, but I waited her out because it was the least I could do from New York City. About ten minutes later, she was crying and telling me to brush my teeth and to not go in any places that smelled weird, because the chances were that it had rats in it, and to not tell Lana that it was Grams' idea, and to not book one room for all four of us, just one for Marissa and me, because Billy and Casey were going to just have to fend for themselves.

I actually laughed at that last one.

"Fend for themselves?" I said, "Grams, this isn't Siberia. We're in New York!"

"Just be careful, Samantha," she huffed, and I heard Hudson in the background wishing me well. Eventually, she said she loved me and told us to be careful, and then she hung up.

I still felt sad, but I was less bummed now that she knew how I was.

"Let's go to Lana's," I said defiantly, "This ends _now._"

We walked. And walked. And walked. We _finally_ got to the house that was about the size of my apartment that Lana was renting and Casey, Billy, and Marissa collapsed like tents on the sidewalk in front. It wasn't pretty, but you could tell by the way it had paint all over it that Lana was changing that.

I walked firmly up to the door and rang the bell with more force than any bell had ever felt before. Nobody answered, so I rang it again.

"Guys," I hissed, "help me." They all groaned. "The first one to start pounding on the door gets to pick where they sleep first." Everybody came running up to the door and started banging on the door as hard as they could.

She answered the door, looking groggy. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Hi there, _Mom_." I hissed. She woke up fast.

"Samantha Jo Keyes!" she cried. "What on earth are you doing in New York City?"

"Telling you off!"

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Because your little romance with Warren is _ruining my life._ Grams', too. Why would you do this?"

She pursed her lips. "You wouldn't understand."

"Really? Oh, by the way, this is my friend—"

"Boyfriend," corrected Marissa.

"Marissa!" I looked at her and knew I was blushing, but Casey's face was lit up with an annoying little grin.

"_Anyways,_" I started, "This is my friend Casey. Acosta. You know, Warren's son?"

Suddenly she got it. "Oh…Samantha, why didn't you just call?" she complained, letting us in.

"Remember the last time we 'could've called'?" I glared. "The message sunk in that time, didn't it?"

"You know what, just go to bed, okay, Samantha? I'm tired, they're tired, you're tired, and you guys can go sightseeing tomorrow or something, because I have a show to record tomorrow, and I need sleep. This was the wrong time, Samantha. You don't know how hard it is! And on top of all that, I have four kids to take care of?" she ranted.

"It's always the wrong time," I whispered, and my eyes stung.

"You know I love you, Sunshine," she whispered back, and hugged me, but I didn't feel any warmth. "I'm just stressed right now, okay? There will be days when we can just hang out together, but today is not that day. Go rest up, because you get to go see the sights! Won't that be fun?" she said, and rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

I nodded numbly.

Billy and Casey crashed on the couches, Marissa and I slept in the guest room that was as big as a matchbox.

"Urggh…," said Marissa, "This room is smaller than your apartment!"

"Don't remind me," I grumbled.

Marissa went to bed, but I stayed sitting on the edge, staring out the tiny window. The lights flashed and the cars honked, but Marissa still slept like a baby. I thought and thought and thought. About Grams. About my unknown dad. About Lana. About Warren. Heather, Casey…I thought about my life. How could it be such a mess? I wondered.

As much as I hated to admit it, the answer was just down the hall, fretting about a stupid show more than her own daughter. The answer was my mother.

But part of me wondered, What if it's not my mother? What if everything would have been okay if my mom had just stuck to her schoolwork and not gotten interested in my dad? What if my life was jacked up because it existed?

I didn't sleep for a long time that night, bexcause I stayed up and worried about me. I only went to sleep because I knew that I was making myself even more of a problem than I already was by waking up.


End file.
